


Taking One For The Team (Or, Tempt Me Instead)

by D20Owlbear



Series: 12 Days of Blasphemy [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 12 Days of Blasphemy Challenge (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Before humanity really gets into the civilization bit, Blasphemy, Breaking bread together, Crawly and Aziraphale are far less worried about fraternizing, Crowley Watches Aziraphale Eat (Good Omens), Crowley's Name is Crawly | Crawley (Good Omens), Crowley/Aziraphale UST, Day 6: Holy Host, Eating Together, First fraternization, M/M, Non-Sexual, Other, Rated T for Food, UST is definitely there though, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21898429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D20Owlbear/pseuds/D20Owlbear
Summary: The first time Aziraphale hosts Crowley it’s before the Star of Bethlehem was seen from Earth. In fact, the first time someone hosted him anywhere it had been Aziraphale.OR, Crawly and Aziraphale don’t fight, and instead, break bread for the first time together. Crawly begins a life-long habit of watching Aziraphale eat. Aziraphale thwarts his wile.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: 12 Days of Blasphemy [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570819
Comments: 6
Kudos: 82
Collections: 12 Days of Blasphemy





	Taking One For The Team (Or, Tempt Me Instead)

Aziraphale sighs wearily and looks upon his earthly adversary with tired eyes and a doleful gaze. Silently he pats a cushion on the ground next to him and turns back to the spartan spread of food before him. He’d already decided that eating was glorious and, really, what better way to worship the Lord than to praise Her with every bite? To enjoy fully in Her creations and delight in the ways of the humans whom She loved?

Crawly eyes him warily and slinks over to sit, muscles loose enough to look entirely too relaxed and ready to bolt at the slightest aggressive move Aziraphale might make. They’d discorporated each other plenty of times before, though really it was far more likely Aziraphale would discorporate Crawly. Aziraphale had been a cherub and Crawly, as best he remembered, had been tasked with creating things, not protecting them. 

Aziraphale, without bothering to say anything, pours Crawly a cup of wine. He breaks his bread in two, setting half in front of Crawly and half before himself, and divides up the fresh fruits and cheese he had brought back to his dwelling. 

“Why are you here, Crawly?” Aziraphale asked, breaking the silence at last, and took a sip of the wine. It’s not particularly good wine, but it’s better than the beer in these parts. Crawly grimaces as he took his own first taste.

“Temptations.” There were a few he specifically needed to do and a handful of generalized ones to check off his list, he wasn’t particularly looking forward to the lust ones, but that’s how it goes when one is a demon, and specifically one of the few who freelance for all Seven departments. 

“Crawly,” Aziraphale sighs and runs a hand over his face. “Does it have to be here?” The angel’s voice sounds tinny and exhausted, and when Crawly looked over at him it was written on his face just as blatantly as it was in his voice. The demon grumbled to himself and took another sip of wine before answering. 

“Some of it. Specific ones. And some nonspecific ones.” He answers, fiddling with his fingertips on the cup his hands are both wrapped around. Aziraphale sighs again and picks up an olive stuffed with salty cheese and dates, humming as it passes his lips and the sharp flavors explode across his tongue. Even in his current state, Aziraphale is happy to give silent thanks to Her for Her creation and all the lovely things within it. His attention turns to Crawly, who’s watching him with a peculiar look on his face that Aziraphale can’t place. 

“I’ll have to drive you out then, you do know that, yes?” Aziraphale replies, plucking up another of the olives and taking a sip from his cup.

“Y– yeah, I know.” Crawly didn’t move to get up or make like he was going to leave, and instead just watches Aziraphale with bright, unblinking eyes. Aziraphale raises an eyebrow back at him.

“Are you going to eat?” The angel asks his temporary guest. Crawly blinked at that and tilts his head in the way small children and confused dogs do.

“No, I don’t need to.” 

Aziraphale rolls his eyes, “Of course you don’t. I don’t need to either, but– oh look here. You’ll want to know how to tempt people right?”

Crowley smirks in glee, eyes flicking to the olive in Aziraphale’s fingers, “Are you trying to tell me to tempt better? Er, worse?”

“No! Of course not!” Aziraphale clutches at his neckline with his free hand, eyes wide and mouth open in outraged shock. Crawly laughs loudly.

“I know, ‘s ‘cause you’re an  _ angel _ .” The demon says simply with a shrug, gingerly reaching out for an olive, mimicking how Aziraphale held it between his finger and thumb. Aziraphale eats the second one, same as the first, moaning happily and softly beneath his breath. Crawly’s curiosity takes hold of him and so he tries it too, only to immediately swallow it with a loud frown and an  _ eyuk _ noise from the back of his throat. 

“Disgusting! Tastes like ash and dust!” Crawly sticks out his tongue–thin and forked–and downs more wine to get rid of the flavor. Aziraphale doesn’t question it, he’s good at that, even if he’s burning up with curiosity of his own. He’s never heard of someone thinking dates or salty cheese or olives taste like ash  _ or _ dust, so it must be demons. Perhaps it’s just Crawly. Who knows. A niggle of something in the back of his head sounds like  _ perhaps it’s just you who eats at all, Aziraphale, poor excuse for an angel _ and he quickly pushes that aside along with the curiosity. 

“Well then, you don’t have to eat it. Stick with your wine.” Aziraphale huffed, pursing his lips to hide a smile at the petulance the demon wore like a veil. It was cute, somehow, in the way grubby children laughing was cute. Not something he really wanted to interact with, but an entertaining thing to behold nonetheless. He pops another olive in his mouth and lets his guard down  _ just a little _ and hums his happiness at the flavor, his eyes closing in pleasure. Crawly has not proven to be hostile, he thinks, so perhaps they can just pretend to be a bit more human than normal. Just for now, just this once. Aziraphale should know by now that  _ just this once _ never means only just this once, not with Crawly and certainly not with Aziraphale. Just this once has turned into something of a habit for him.

Crawly snorts and takes another long pull of wine and drains his cup. He reaches out for the bottle Aziraphale poured from with rude, grabby gestures before Aziraphale sighs–certainly not bemused, of course–and passes it over, smiling faintly when Crawly tops his own drink up as well and sets the bottle between them both for easy reaching. 

Aziraphale looks over at the demon again, blinking quickly in mild surprise at Crawly’s intense focus on his face. “Oh, do I have something?” The question trails off and he gestures at his face before quickly wiping at his mouth, unsure why he’s being watched so intently.

“No, you don’t,” Crawly says.

“Then why–?” Aziraphale pulls back slightly when Crawly reaches out for another olive, this time off his plate, and makes a small noise of confused askance when Crawly doesn’t try it again for himself and instead holds it up before Aziraphale. The angel stares for some time and the silence between them is rife with all sorts of things neither of them is used to. It’s nothing like the sins Crawly inspires, even if the motions might be similar in lust, and it’s nothing like the virtues Aziraphale encourages, even if it feels like it wouldn’t be out of place between a couple in love.

Crawly doesn’t move, doesn’t retract the morsel or eat it himself, nor does his hand waiver as he holds it aloft. A benefit of not being human. Aziraphale locks eyes with Crawly and leans forward, opening his mouth and allowing Crawly to place the olive between his teeth. If Aziraphale was paying attention to anything but the demon’s golden eyes he might have noticed the way Crawly shivered when the pad of his finger scraped Aziraphale’s canine as he pulled back, but he wasn’t, so he didn’t. Instead, Aziraphale saw Crawly’s eyes dilate and his gaze turned hot and molten, and the air between them felt like the static-y air just before the first strike of lightning. 

“I’ll leave, if you like,” Crawly spoke softly, voice throatier than when he walked in earlier.

“No,” Aziraphale murmured lowly, “How many do you have to take care of?”

“Hm?”

“Temptations, Crawly, how many?”

“Oh, right. Five. Two specific.” Crawly couldn’t be blamed for not resisting such a compelling interrogation. Not with how his mind didn’t leave well enough alone, incessantly circling the all too recent memory of the cherub’s teeth on his flesh.

“Do your two, and then come back here,” Aziraphale commanded, looking away from Crawly’s eyes for only just long enough to crack open a pomegranate (the sound of it echoed in the room and in Crawly’s foggy head) and to grab Crawly’s hand palm up to drop a few of the seeds into it. 

Aziraphale waits patiently for the spark of understanding to bloom in the demon’s eyes, and when it did, he smiled beatifically. He offers himself as a sacrifice to the demon’s wiles, to keep Crawly from tempting yet more humans to sin. Surely an angel would be worth three humans in that regard.

Just this once, of course.


End file.
